Changed
by Seventh Sunset
Summary: After a severe accident leaves Luke critically injured, he learns just how large the consequences of one's actions can be. Now faced with a dangerous secret, Luke tries to remember just what turned the innocent young apprentice he once was into an unruly adult. *Rewritten and with a new introduction.*
1. Chapter 1

**_A/N: I started this story about two (two and a half?) years ago, and then sort of abandoned it. I intended to continue with what I had originally published, but then I went back and read through and I wasn't happy with the length or quality of any of the chapters. So instead of continuing, I decided to start from the bginning and rewrite the first few chapters with more detail and a better pace, and go from there. This was inspired by a story called "Fragile" by xCastielsGirlx, which was one of the first stories I read in the PL fandom and one I highly recommend. _**

**_I understand the Layton fandom has changed since I first published this story, and that is completely fine. I really want to continue this story because now I have a better idea of where I want it to go. And besides, maybe some new readers will enjoy this just as much as the old ones. _**

**_That's about it. To whoever reads,_**

******_Enjoy. _**

* * *

Through a dense fog that seems to have magically formed and clogged my ears, I hear two sirens: police, and ambulance. I let out a low groan, wincing at the pain that has begun to consume my whole body. Through the fog, I hear a familiar voice continuously calling out: "LUKE!" Everything is happening so fast, yet, it seems too slow to believe. Nothing is making sense in my head, all the noises are blending together to create one horrible screech. I'm just a ball of confusion, unable to move or think. Whatever had gone wrong…?

* * *

_I slowly pull the keys out of my pocket, pressing the cold metal in between my fingers and palm. Next to me stands a boy dressed in a crisp homemade racing suit, and radiating an air that says: 'I'm rich and bored so I might as well participate in an illegal sport'. It takes me a second to remember that his name is Joshua, he's the leader of this organization, and if we're to get caught tonight his father's money will be there to bail us out. I also think that his racing suit, while very well made, is gaudy and makes him look like a bright, red-clad attention-seeking git._

_This I keep to myself, obviously. _

_As these thoughts are being filed away, Josh clears his throat and asks, "So you're really in this time, Luke? Because if you're not, I'm afraid I've given you one too many chances."_

_He's referring to my past attempts to drive in a race. There had definitely been a few, each ending up in me either chickening out as soon as I arrived at the start line, or not showing up at all. I had gotten real hell for those times, but Josh had given me second, third and fourth chances. Each of these chances had always been "the last". I had no idea why he let me keep coming back. Maybe I amused him, but I couldn't tell how._

_"No, this time, I'm in for real." I assure him, and to emphasize my commitment, I make my way over to the car Josh and his posse have lent to me for the night: it's a very sleek and stylish red with flashy silver rims and the letters 'SB' stamped in fancy letters on the hood. The emblem stands for Street Brawlers, Josh's cliché name for his racing group. I touch the cold metal of the car's door handle, and take a deep breath. This is it. If I back out now, I know I won't be coming back. Just as I'm about to get into the driver's seat, a voice calls out to me: "LUKE! No, what in the world are you doing?"_

_I turn to see Flora. She's running towards me, hair flailing around her, dressed only in an orange tank-top and faded blue jean despite the chilly night air. "Flora…why'd you follow me? I told you to stay home." I know this is a foolish question, but I can't help but wonder why Flora seems to have a need to track down people when she gets bored of being home alone._

_She reaches me and I'm startled to see tears in her eyes. She's out of breath and shivering as she yells. "You…you l-lied to me! That's all you've done the p-past month, lie right…right to m-my face! You t-told me…you were going out to get groceries…do you see a g-grocery store…out here? HUH? W-what are…you even doing here, Luke?" she's fully sobbing now, and it pains me to see her like this._

_I carefully reach out to brush a strand of hair out of her face, but she slaps it away in disgust. "Flora, it's just…" I search for a better word than street racing, "It's just…a game."_

_"You actually think I'm that stupid?" her stare could melt an iceberg, "I know what you're doing. Street racing is dangerous, Luke. You could be seriously injured or…or…or…" She can't even bring herself to say the last word. Exhaling frustration, she venomously states, "Frankly I don't know why I care so much, especially if you've decided to start hanging around with this lazy rich-boy scum."_

_This prompts a few grunts of protests and angry glances from the Street Brawler members who are within hearing range. Josh who seems to have appeared next to us out of nowhere doesn't seem to mind however, and casually announces, "Luke, we're going to get started now."_

_I nod, "Yea, one sec." He shrugs and walks to his car. I turn to Flora, "Look, it's going to be fine." I try to put on a small smile, and take off my jacket to drape around her shoulders. Again, she slaps my hands away and gives a shallow laugh._

_"You can't predict the future, Luke. Have you honestly been doing this for the past month?" My silence answers her question. "Why did you even start? Did you ever once stop to think about me or…or the Professor?"_

_The last part stings me, and I shake my head. "I care about you Flora, but Professor Layton…I don't know him anymore. He's become a stranger to me." I turn away, and open my car door._

_Before I step inside, I hear Flora's voice. It's small and full of disappointment: "You've become a stranger to me."_

* * *

I'm moving fast, which means I'm probably in the ambulance. But for all I know, I could be in the police car, being brought to the Scotland Yard for questioning. This makes me think of inspector Chelmy. I smile, or at least feel my mouth twitch. I would absolutely love to hear what he has to say about this: "GOOD BLAZES, boy! Have you completely lost your mind? Of all the shenanigans you could've gotten yourself into, you choose a criminal act?!"

_Sorry to disappoint, sir,_ I think sarcastically, imagining his face turning an extraordinary plum color. There's pain coursing through every member of my body, but it is extremely severe in my head, abdomen and right leg. The crash had been pretty harsh, and the sound of crunching metal seemed to be playing like a broken record in my head.

* * *

_The keys slide smoothly into the ignition, and as soon as I give them a twist, the engine springs to life, rumbling and eager to be tested to the limit as I speed down the sleeping streets of London. I hear the engines of other cars being awakened too, creating an almost haunting drone. A slender boy dressed in khaki shorts and a blue shirt decorated with the 'SB' logo steps out in front of the cars. All eyes are on him as he raises a megaphone to his lips, "WELCOME EVERYONE!" his voice echoes, "WELCOME TO OUR WEEKLY RACE! I HOPE YOU ALL ARE ANXIOUS TO MAKE THIS ONE EVEN BETTER THAN THE LAST!"_

_I'm actually surprised at how obvious these boys are making this event. Sure we aren't next to any apartment buildings where people may be sleeping, but they weren't exactly trying to keep their law breaking games under wraps. Nevertheless I place my hands on the wheel, gripping it so hard I can feel my pulse vibrating in my palms._

_"OKAY EVERYONE, NO BACKING OUT NOW! ON YOUR MARKS, GET SET…"_

_He walks to the sidelines to avoid being run over by the cars after he gives us the cue. Everything in my field of vision is becoming blurry, but whether this is due to anticipation or nerves I can't say. The boy's voice, now sounding as though it's thousands of miles away, calls out one last time,_

_"GOOOOOOOOOOOO!"_

_Without thinking I stomp on the peddle and am pushed back against my seat from the sudden jolt of acceleration. Easing up a bit I sit up straight and push down so I'm going fast enough to speed through the streets, but not enough to throw me back again. Adrenaline courses through my body as I see the first few racers ahead. A small smirk creeps onto my face as I spot that the black car directly in front of me has left his left side wide open, the perfect opportunity for me to slip by and pass him. 'It's all kind of like a puzzle, really' I think. You have to determine how fast to go, how far ahead of your opponents you can get in a certain amount of time, etcetera. At least the Professor had taught me one useful thing before he slipped into his depression._

_I put a little more weight on the peddle and am carried forward until I am right next to the blue car. It's driver gives me a surprised and positively evil look as I give him a wink and speed in front, making sure to leave little room on my sides to prevent him from passing me. Despite not having a driver's license (a fact the Street Brawlers didn't know), I felt like I was doing a pretty good job._

_Who knew I'd have a knack for this sport?_

* * *

I feel a hand touching my face. It's not a slap so much as a very firm pat, something that whoever is around me is probably using to get me to wake up.

Well, it's working.

"Hey, kid? Kid, if you can hear my voice, it'd be great if you could blink or make a sound."

My mouth is as dry as the Sahara, and my tongue doesn't even feel like it's connected to my mouth. I try to remember how to make my lips part so some sort of noise can escape, but try as I might I can't seem to master this simple task. I take all the energy I have left, and manage to open my eyes. As soon as I do this, I'm blinded by the dim lighting in the ambulance.

The medic standing over me gives me a grin, "Alright, kid. Welcome back."

'Welcome back'. Had I gone anywhere? I wish I could ask the medic this, but he's already turned his attention to the other man in the car.

"''Kay, James, this one's responding. How many does that make?"

"Well there were fifteen kids total. Nine are unharmed; two got banged up a bit but nothing serious. Out of the four of 'em who got into the crash, three out of the four have responded."

"The other kid?"

"Well, it's lookin' pretty grim I'll tell ya that."

"What was his name?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see James check his clipboard, "Joshua Mills. He's Mason Mill's kid, you know, the guy who sells all the real estate?"

"Oh yea…damn. Who'd a thought the kid of one of the richest men in London would get himself into a mess like this?"

I want to laugh at this statement, but my mind's getting pretty foggy again. Instead, I try to remember what happened to Josh…

Oh. Right.

* * *

_I don't know how much time has passed since the start of the race, but frankly I don't care. I'm doing a pretty good job for my first time behind the wheel. Judging by how many cars I've already passed, I'm in about sixth place, which is perfectly fine with me. The point of this isn't to win, just to take my mind ofthings for a while. And it was doing one hell of a good job._

_I'm so focused on this feeling of freedom that I don't realize the streak of ice blue that has appeared in my rear-view mirror. Then an aggressive honk rings out. I quickly check to see if I've left any spare room for the guy behind me to pass. I smile when I see that I haven't_

_'Heh, try and pass me buddy. That's a puzzle I'm sure no one could solve.'_

_Apparently this boy's found a solution._

_I feel the bump before I realize what's happening: I'm sailing towards the side of the road. I slam the breaks and hear my tires squeal, probably leaving some skid marks._

_I furiously turn to see who just hit me: it's Josh._

_He gives me a smirk as he races past me, and my face begins to feel hot. He's not getting away that easily. I slowly back up, and when I'm back on the road, I slam down. The engine roars and my car zooms forward. I'm coming back for my sixth place slot._

_In about a minute, Josh's car comes back into my field of vision. I narrow my eyes and see a sliver of open space. It's just big enough for me to hit him back. I honk just as Josh did, and begin to speed forward, his license plate the target of my impact. It never once occurs to me that Josh has been racing for god-knows how long, and that this is my first race, and that my un-meditated stupidity might actually end in catastrophe. It never once registers that I'm going faster than I've ever gone before and I may end up causing a fatal crash. And upon impact, I never once realize that the fatal crash has potential to become real. All I feel is my car slam, fly, and crash. Within a split second, my body is in excruciating pain and is vibrating with the impact of another speeding racer crashing into the ruins of me and josh's vehicles. Then the darkness closes in, and I'm floating away into a haze._

* * *

Dammit. I really am an idiot.

_"You've become a stranger to me."_

Well that makes two of us, Flora. _I_ barley even recognize myself anymore.

* * *

_**A/N: I like this chapter so much more than the original. Josh wasn't even part of the original story, but I decided to add him in because I wanted to write a little about a character with his personality.**_

_**I wrote this and the second chapter months ago, and while it has taken me this long to publish, it means I can have a consistent update schedule for about a week! *confetti rains down***_

_**Alright my magical starfish, that's all for now. Until next chapter,**_

_**-Lizz**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and favorited last chapter. **_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

The first thing I feel is soft. Everything around me is comfortable and cushioning, almost like a cloud. I use all my effort, and, despite my all-aching body, I managed to crack my eyelids open.

Immediately I am bombarded by a voice that cries, "Luke! Luke, can you hear me?"

Speaking feels like a chore, but I manage to mumble, "Flora? What're you…"

"I'm here to see if you're all right." Her sentences are short, frank, and void of any sympathy. "I warned you, you know. I warned you that you were being crazy. Well, how do you feel now?"

"Oh, I don't know. A little tired, a little sore, just a tad traumatized but nothing too severe."

"Please don't do that." The intensity in Flora's eyes dims down. I know I shouldn't have tried to be smart with her, but at this point I don't know how else to deal with things. Although she seems to understand this, it doesn't stop her from continuing the lecture she had obviously already planned on giving. "Do you realize how close I was to having a heart attack as soon as I saw what happened to your little group on the news?"

This grabs my attention. "We were on the news?"

Flora gives a flustered laugh as she says, "Oh, why, you didn't know? Yea, all of London knows the names of you and the rest of your little gang."

I imagine my name appearing on the screen along with all of the other members of the Street Brawlers. This can't be happening. It was a bad crash, sure, but I didn't realize it was bad enough to make the news. This could ruin me. Imagine going in for a job and having yourself identified as a young delinquent who was part of a street racing crash. These thoughts are too much. I shoot into an upright position and immediately wish I hadn't. My vision goes blurry for a second and I feel as though I may vomit, even though my stomach is as empty as can be.

"Luke!"

I shakily hold up a hand. "No, I'm fine I just…when did you see?"

Flora still looks concerned as she says, "The eleven o'clock news last night. They said the crash happened at around eight so they got to the scene pretty quickly. You'll probably be in some newspapers too, but I didn't stop to check on my way here."

Now I have about a million questions flying around my head. "Do they have any idea who caused the crash?"

She shakes her head. "No, no leads so far."

Good. The only thing scarier than having my name broadcasted for hundreds to see was the thought that those hundreds knew that I was the one responsible for this crash. Worse yet would be _Flora_ knowing I was responsible. I couldn't bring myself to imagine her reaction.

I allowe myself a brief moment of relief before asking, "Did they broadcast all of our names?"

"I'd assume so. I mean, it's not like those boys had any family close or rich enough to cover up their—"

"Did they mention a boy named Joshua Mills?" I ask before she finishes. He's the only one out of the gang I know who's loaded with cash. He could easily erase his association as head of the Street Brawlers. God forbid he actually took the fall with the rest of us peasants who joined him.

Flora pauses a moment, then slowly shakes her head. "Actually, I don't think I saw that name come up at all during the coverage."

I grit my teeth, suspicion confirmed. "That bastard, he probably had his parents pay off the news crew. Of course he couldn't be revealed to be a part of any illegal activity, because we can't have _his_ reputation slandered now can we? I swear the next time I see him—"

"Well you won't have to worry about seeing him because he's dead."

When you're young, death seems like a distant concept that you don't have to worry about for a long time, maybe even ever if you play your cards right. Sure _old_ people die but that's because it's their time, and what worth does a life that only consists of sitting in a nursing home and trying to remember your own name really hold? No, when you're young, you're invincible and the future is yours for the taking. Which is why when someone your age does in fact die, it seems unreal. Especially if they're killed in some violent way.

Especially if you're the one that killed them.

I hit him. I hit Josh's car. Not only am I a criminal, not only am I an idiot who couldn't cool my temper and caused a pretty nasty car accident, but I'm a murderer. I killed him. It's my fault. I _killed_ another person and now I can't undo the damage. Sure he was a prick but that didn't mean I wanted him dead. I'm an idiot and a killer and I'm cold and heartless and careless and inconsiderate and awful and…

"Luke? Luke what's wrong?! Luke please answer me!"

"Gah!" My eyes fly open. I wasn't even aware I had closed them. I don't remember ever curling up in this seated fetal position I find myself in. I slowly relax the death grip I don't remember taking on my hair and begin to lower my hands. I'm shaking now. I don't know what I could possibly say. _"Nothing's wrong, Flora. I'm responsible for the injuries of at least two other not including myself, which added on to the fact I'm now associated with an illegal street racing gang will most likely gain me some jail time. Oh, and I killed Josh. Never thought you'd personally know a murderer, huh?"_ Afraid of saying anything I'll regret, I simply take a breath and ask quietly, "So Josh is dead?'

"Yes, he is." Flora speaks carefully.

"Flora…I think I need to be alone."

Flora nods and looks me over with a concerned gaze. "Alright, I'll go. Technically I'm not even supposed to be in here right now, but when the nurses had their back turned, I snuck in." She gives a small smile, which I do my best to return. "I just really needed to see you. This whole thing is so awful."

I manage to force the corners of my mouth to turn up. I can't let her know just how severe of a predicament I'm in, not now. She's already been through enough for one day.

She begins to leave, and then turns around in what seems to be a realization. "Oh! Before I forget, I called Professor Layton as soon as I saw the news."

"I'm sorry, you called who?"

She sighs. "Look, I know you aren't too fond of him at the moment, but it wasn't like he was never going to find out. I figured it was better that he heard from me than from the news. Anyway, he says he'll try and come here as soon as possible, but who knows what 'soon' means for him."

"I don't want him to come." My voice must sound angry, because Flora seems to shrink an inch.

"But Luke, he really does care—"

"I don't want to become another thing he starts to mope over. He has such an annoying way of dealing with things that happen to people who are close to him."

Flora tries to defend him. "With Claire and his friend Randall, those were different situations."

I roll my eyes. "Flora, I bet he'll find a way to blame himself for my own idiocy. And when he finds that way he'll seclude himself from everyone once again and I am not going to deal with it, nor do I want anyone else to have to. I don't want him here and that's final."

There is a moment of silence, and it seems as though Flora is about to leave. Instead, she walks back over to my bedside. "You were about eight when you first met him, right? You knew him for less than a week, and you immediately wanted to travel with him on grand adventures."

"I mean he did save my town."

"Exactly! And he's done so much more for you since then." Her voice breaks but she continues. "But eventually you realized that not all mysteries end as happily as they did for Misthallery. So what did you do? You backed out and blamed Professor Layton for being a regular human with emotions. Because obviously you don't have those."

"Shut up." My voice is more menacing than I mean for it to be.

She sounds amused. "Why. Because it's the truth? Do you feel like you abandoned him?"

"Shut up, Flora."

"You did. You didn't want to go to the United States so at the very last second he managed to convince your parents to let you stay. Yet, he was still torn up about losing someone he loved a second time, and when you realized he wasn't completely over her and ready to go on more adventures with you, you left him. You left him when he needed you the most."

"_Shut Up!"_

"No." She is calm and collected as she watches me turn red. "I'm sick of this, Luke. I'm sick of you blaming him. It's been going on for months now, and I've tried to help, but you just ignore me and everyone else. When you're ready to actually talk to me and let me know what is going on, I'll be here. Until then, I'm sorry, but I can't be around you." She leaves without looking at me.

I wish I could yell at her to come back. I wish I could yell at her for telling me the truth. I wish I could yell and tell her just how much trouble I'm in. I wish I could yell and apologize. I wish I could yell for help.

But I'm too exhausted. I let my head fall back onto my pillow and wince at how tender it feels.

I try to sleep, and after what feels like hours of restlessness, I manage to drift off.

* * *

_The room is painted my favorite shade of blue. But now that I look closely, I see the chips and small cracks running along the walls. We were supposed to have a painter come in a few months ago, but it's not like it matters much now anyway. I'm leaving this place for good._

_I check my suitcase once more to make sure I have what I need, then close it and lift it off the bed. It's heavy enough to let me know I'm not going to need much after I leave, and light enough to allow me to travel. It won't be a long journey, more like a few hours actually, but I don't want the burden of a heavy suitcase or the reminder that I need to re-buy a dozen items when I get to where I'm going weighing me down. _

_It's not like this departure is sudden, at least not to me. I've felt it coming on for quite some time now if even his numb mind couldn't. I didn't know what the effects of a quick and angry departure would be for him, so I decided to do everything as gradual as possible. First, I started packing. That took a few days. I didn't want him to become suspicious that my clothes were packed away because I'd been wearing the same outfit for a long while. Next I began to remove any small traces of myself from the flat, such as my pocket knife and model cars I liked to build. Finally, over the course of three months, I began to stop talking to him. This was so, when I did decide to leave, he wouldn't have to go through any shock not having me there to talk to would cause. _

_I straighten my blue sweater with my free hand, and proceed to the living room where I know he'll be sitting, staring blankly out of the window just as he's done for the past few months. Sure enough, there he is, playing with the fraying rim of the top hat he received from his now deceased sweetheart, Claire. He never puts it on anymore, he just sort of plays with it on his lap. It's strange and pitiful to say the least._

"_Professor."_

_He looks up slowly. "Oh, my boy, off to school now?"_

_I refrain from rolling my eyes as I remind him for the third time this week, "No, Professor. It's summer holiday, which means school's out."_

"_Oh, yes, of course." He goes back to playing with the hat._

"_Actually, I've come to tell you goodbye." _

_He stops playing but doesn't look up this time. "I had a feeling this was going to happen."_

_Maybe he was still a bit sane after all. "Really? And you never bothered to say anything?"_

_He smiled sadly. "You're eighteen now, Luke, an adult. I can't tell you what to do anymore."_

"_Well…fine. I just wanted to let you know something before I leave." He nods and I clear my throat. "When the school year starts back up, you should return to Gressenheller. I know you took the end of the last school year off, but you can't just leave forever. I mean, I won't be here to tell you otherwise, but it would probably be best if you had something to do other than mope. Get your life back on track, Professor. It will do more good than you'd think. Unless you want to embarrass yourself and become one of those up and coming figures who fell and now lives a meaningless lives. You're an adult so I can't tell you what to do either, and honestly I don't care anymore. Just know that this is pitiful."_

"_Is that all?"_

"_Yes."_

_A small spot appears on the rim of the hat, then another, and then another. "Thank you, my boy. May I ask where you're going?"_

"_Flora's." I say curtly. "Goodbye."_

_I hear the sound of a few more tears falling onto the hat as I make my way to the door._

* * *

I jolt awake at the feeling of someone touching my arm. I turn expecting to see Flora so I can apologize. It's a nurse. My heart sinks.

"Oh! I'm sorry to wake you up, I just came in to check on you and it looked like you had been crying. Are you in any serious pain?"

I lift a hand up to my cheek and feel dampness. "No…I was just…" I stop myself. I can't bring myself to confess it was because of a memory. "Actually, my head is kind of throbbing."

"I'll bring you some medication."

"Thank you," I say as she leaves. I wipe the tears off of my face and lay back down. I wish I hadn't dreamed about the day I left the Professor. I don't think I even noticed the fact he was crying when it first happened. But memories exist to show and make you see details you wish you could forget. Like the way his voice never became angry. Like the way I kept acting like I was better than him.

Now after last night, I realize that he was the better man all along.

* * *

_**A/N: My summer break starts next week, so hopefully I'll have more time to update! *crosses fingers* I'd love to hear your thoughts in a review!**_

_**Until next chapter loves, **_

_**-Lizz**_


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